


Blue Moon

by KiaraAlexisKlay



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 07:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30068562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaraAlexisKlay/pseuds/KiaraAlexisKlay
Summary: Klaroline Fall Bingo 2020 Submissionprompt: “Hello, love”#klarolinefallbingo2020
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Blue Moon

“You will regret this,” the Hybrid swore, handsome visage harsh and as cold as if it had been sculpted from marble.

“Regret only that you weren’t eliminated sooner,” the brash response from what appeared to be the head of the ragtag bunch of various supernaturals was typical.

It was amusing to see the riff-raff, emboldened as they were by their seeming victory over one of the more infamous of the Original’s, still were nervous and kept eyeballing the rune encrusted shackles binding him in place. Especially as the blood drenched Hybrid’s eyes darkened into familiar vampiric veins before the eerie gleam of his Wolf took them in.  
“Abomination” was the word most bandied about and the Original would have laughed as he saw one of the gathered witches make a hasty sign of the cross the first time his hybrid eyes glowed.

“Many have made that claim,” the blood congealed curly head bobbed in acknowledgement, keeping the stiff-backed head conspirator in his sights. “But their regret affected nothing, in the end.”

Meanwhile …

The bright, bloated moon shone in all her full brilliance on a crisp, chill night. The softly simmering light did absolutely nothing to discourage the lazy, curling wisps of fog. Certain points were nearly translucent, yet, contradictorily mere inches away it became thicker… the bloated air slinking and caressing everything in its path, fluttering about to some unknown call.

The thickest of the tendrils flirted with the shadows, teaming up among the thickened foliage and the eerie creaking as the woods shifted and shivered in the October chill. The air nearest the ground was so saturated even the smallest of sounds appeared muted.

So it was the perfect moment for the blood-curdling shriek to split the ominous silence. The pain filled wail began shrill and strong, the breaks in pitch and intensity signifying what had to be extreme agony to have instigated such a sound.

~*~*~  
The Hybrid was the only one who didn’t flinch at the first alarm. That piercing wail had the more anxious of his captors agitated and frightened; the murmuring and unease rising and spreading through the ranks even as others frantically tried shushing.

As if that would make a difference. 

Clothing torn and littered with blood both his and that of those who had sacrificed themselves for his momentary capture, the Hybrid cocked his head as he listened while leaning into the chains suspending him between two pillars, as more than one voice began to join the first in their anguished symphony.

A double set of fangs glistened wetly in the moonlight in a sneering smile, and Niklaus Mikaelson began to laugh.

~*~*~

Slurping and wet, tearing plops of what had to be flesh joined in a haunted refrain as rapid, heaving gulps of air were almost as loud as a sudden chorus of agonized surprise rose out of the depths of the wooded clearing in the center of the forest. The addition of which was cause for a slight uptick in volume before suddenly and savagely cut short.

There were fewer voices rising, and eventually fewer begging and pleading of the sentries to their attacker for mercy that would not be granted.

Heart pounding a rapid tattoo and nearly at the bursting point, the panicked slap of wood against tender flesh was a swift acquaintance as her body hurled itself into the night’s embrace, praying to any deity that safety was included. Thinner branches left stinging welts as loose leaves, pebbles, and twigs did their level best to twist up ankles or hinder the headlong escape.

“Please! Please, please, please, please! Please …no…oh!”

Involuntary yelping, the bludgeoned body skidded to an unwanted stop, gravity having taken her due as the very ground itself had given way. There had been a stomach twisting moment where forward momentum had kept going even on air for a few beats before the lack of wings resulted in a swift plummet below.

Bone broke, twisting and pulling against muscle in ways that should never have been, as well as tendons overexerting themselves. Exposed flesh bore the brunt of bruises and punctures. 

“Please! Oh, goddess, no,no, nononono!” the hood of the runner’s cloak fell back, revealing the frightened woman – little more than a girl half-grown really – beneath. Were it not for the rictus of sheer terror dominating her features, some may have called her beautiful.

The bright moon swept through near bare branches to caress pale skin that flinched at the exposure. Frantic hands clawed and pulled, attempting to de-tangle the cloak doing its level best to strangle her from the mess of bramble a bit up the incline from whence she fell.

“Isn’t this a shame?” an overly cheerful voice observed and the injured woman gave an unholy screech of panic.

~*~*~

“What’s going on?! Who’s taking out our members? The wards should have warned us if one of his siblings were to arrive.”

Her demands were ignored and where there once was order, there was now chaos. Men and women were running around, the fear and anger and the primal need to flee was a stench so potent even she, as a mere human, could practically taste it.

The Coven Head was not having a good night. Too many of her coven as well as the wolves and lower tier magic users had perished in capturing the most notorious of that hated Mikaelson Clan. 

That wouldn’t have proven to be as much an issue, yet, this unexpected slaughter of her brothers and sisters couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time. The Blue Moon hadn’t reached its zenith yet, so the ritual that would allow her and her coven both bind the Abomination as well as harness his raw, untapped magical potential was in jeopardy.  
It would be a true loss even before the whatever it is made its way inside, as the users she required for key focal points were now missing.

“Get back here, you cowards! We still have time, we need to begin!”

A rumbling laugh had her whirling back to her captive, and she nearly took a step backward, though she knew she wasn’t in immediate danger.  
Niklaus Mikaelson somehow seemed to languidly sprawl between his chains, a hunter’s intensity tensing his frame as the wolf-gold of his eyes dominating the black blanket of veins and the feral gleam of hybrid fangs.

“How’s that regret coming along, sweetheart?”

~*~*~

Wolf howls lit the night, and it was a toss up if they were fleeing in a strategic retreat or gathering forces. Either way, it was all for naught. The human spectators were not as lucky as their wolf or supernaturally enhanced companions, and they were scarcely a challenge, lifeless bodies dropping, and missing hearts and throats. In some cases, they were missing entire heads.

~*~*~

“Ah! If you want to do something right ….” The Coven Mistress grumbled, and as she turned away from the compelling figure chained in front of her, she gave a jerk and a gasp.  
Eyes wide, she couldn’t tear her disbelieving gaze away from the man who made a set of dimples look so cruel.

There was a dual burning sensation by one shoulder blade and her chest.

“…You have to do it yourself,” a feminine voice purred the remainder of the diddy in her ear, and she tried to speak, but the Mistress was finding speech beyond her. Something wet was dribbling out of her mouth, but her hands refused to move further up than her waist, splayed out and hands twitching involuntarily.

Head flopping over of it’s own accord – she couldn’t stop it if she tried – her eyes struggled to focus through fuzzing awareness. There was a hand, a wrist…part of a forearm really … and it was, why was it in front of her? What was that in the not her own hand’s palm?

The Hybrid’s laugh seemed … happier? He was saying something, she knew it.

“Hello, Love.”

A final hitching gurgle and then it all faded to nothing.

~~ finish ~~


End file.
